A BAD MOMS CHRISTMAS

AMERICAN MADE

1/2 R, 115 min. Westbrook. As soon as the Universal logo flickers and switches to its retro 1970s look and the disco music starts to play, jazzing up Jimmy Carter speeches and old news footage, we know what we’re in for with the cocaine-smuggling adventure “American Made.” This is a romp and a half. Maybe even three. Director Doug Liman has never been a minimalist filmmaker, and “American Made” just might be his most maximalist film yet. There’s a breezy sunniness to this film, which looks like a faded snapshot reclaimed from a 1980s photo album. VHS lines and time stamps crackle effervescently. “American Made” casts a nostalgic golden filter on what was a rather dark and dramatic period in U.S. history. Drug cartel-related violence plagued the Southeast while the first lady urged everyone to “just say no.” Meanwhile the American government was essentially allowing the illegal import of cocaine while providing guns to the rebels fighting the Communist Sandinista army in Central America. This is all told through the true life story of pilot, drug smuggler and informant Barry Seal (Tom Cruise). — Rafer Guzman, Newsday

H1/2 R, 104 minutes. Niantic, Mystic Luxury Cinemas, Waterford, Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. In “A Bad Moms Christmas,” it’s double the moms, double the bad. Last time around, a year and change ago, the “Bad Moms” were just a trio of Wine Moms — Amy (Mila Kunis), Kiki (Kristen Bell) and Carla (Kathryn Hahn) — letting loose with some shots while letting go of perfectionism. Now their moms — Ruth (Christine Baranski), Sandy (Cheryl Hines) and Isis (Susan Sarandon) — are in town for the holidays, and we’ve got a veritable cornucopia of naughty mommies. “Bad Moms”: now with more emotional manipulation. The existential plight of the Wine Mom — who seeks relief from the crushing weight of heteronormative capitalist patriarchy at the bottom of a chardonnay bottle — is a real cultural crisis. Someone should shine a light on this, but co-writers and co-directors Jon Lucas and Scott Moore are not those storytellers. Mostly because one has to wonder if Lucas and Moore have ever even met human women. These characters

1/2 R, 163 minutes. Through today only at Stonington. Filmmaker Denis Villeneuve has taken on the herculean task of directing the sequel to Ridley Scott’s 1982 sci-fi classic “Blade Runner,” a feat that seems nearly impossible to pull off, considering the reverence with which fans hold the original, one of the most unique and influential pieces of sci-fi cinema. Villeneuve’s film, “Blade Runner 2049,” is a remarkable achievement, a film that feels distinctly auteurist, yet also cut from the very same cloth as Scott’s film. This epic riff on the styles, themes and characters of “Blade Runner” expand the scope and story of this world. Written by original screenwriter Hampton Fancher and Michael Green, “2049” is a meditative and moving film, sumptuously photographed by legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins. To belabor story details is to miss the bigger picture of “Blade Runner 2049.” The style is rich, the themes are complex, but the story is a simple, classically cinematic tale. A man is faced with an existential quandary through which he reckons with his own soul and identity in the face of incredible dehumanization. As LAPD officer K, searching out illegal replicants, Ryan Gosling is perfectly cast as a successor to Deckard (Harrison Ford). His nonchalance reflects the uneasy, distrustful daily existence in this dystopian, isolated future. He is riveting when K’s spirit tries to break through the studiously placid surface. — Katie Walsh, Tribune Content Agency

1/2 R, 115 minutes. Madison Art Cinemas. “The Florida Project” depicts a 6-yearold (the enchanting Brooklynn Kimberly Prince) growing up in the shadow of the Happiest Place on Earth. Moonee lives in a lavender castle with her mother, Halley (Bria Vinaite), and merrily runs around with her friends Jancey (Valeria Cotto) and Scooty (Christopher Rivera), eating ice cream and giggling and imagining the sort of things that little kids imagine. (“If I had a pet alligator,” she announces at one point, apropos of nothing, “I would name it Call or text Gregory at (917) 882-6262 to schedule